


...For Good Women to Do Nothing

by Geonn



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Humor, Team Dynamics, Teambuilding, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-21
Updated: 2011-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 11:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The violence has gone on for too long. Too many good people have died. It's time for Sam to make a stand. (Humor)</p>
            </blockquote>





	...For Good Women to Do Nothing

Sweat dripped down her temple, but she couldn't risk moving to brush it away. She stayed where she was, concealed by the chair, and waited for her opportunity. Her heart pounded as she watched the briefing room window, waiting for his reflection to move into the right position. She was crouched, very aware that even a shift in her weight would draw his attention. But she was too sly for that. Teal'c took two more careful steps, his eyes on the window and searching the Gate room below for signs of his prey.

Sam stood up and pulled a rubber band onto her gun. She said, "Hey." When he turned, she released the clip and her orange rubber band hit him in the chest. Teal'c grunted in surprise and brought his own gun up to return fire. Sam slapped the General's chair and Teal'c's rubber band - yellow; they were all color coded - bounced harmlessly off the leather. She turned and ran, using the row of chairs as a shield.

When she reached the spiral staircase, she nearly collided with Walter Harriman. She brought her gun around but stopped herself before she fired. "Non-combatant?" He held his hands up, nodded quickly, and she nodded for him to continue. Once he was past, Sam went down the stairs at a jog and swept her gun across the room for signs of other fighters.

She wasn't going to lose this damn game. Just because she had been bored and managed to construct the perfect rubber band gun, Colonel O'Neill insisted they had to use them. She refused, but he got his hands on one anyway. The first report of violence was from the commissary, an airman who was hit in the back while getting chili. Then Janet reported from the infirmary: people reporting welts all over their bodies. Sam couldn't be a conscientious objector any longer.

This madness had to end.

Of course, O'Neill quickly recruited Teal'c to his side. Sam convinced Daniel that O'Neill had to be stopped, but she hadn't heard from him since he went to check the security cameras. She had to assume he was lost. She reached the elevators and did a sweep of the hall. No sign. She keyed the door and pressed her back to the wall.

"Ma-jor Car-ter," O'Neill said over her radio. His voice was low and mocking.

She grabbed her radio. "Colonel. You're down one Jaffa."

"He was a decoy. I know where you are now."

"Then there's just one question," Sam said. "How fast are you?"

The elevator doors opened and O'Neill stepped out. "Fast enough."

Sam fired at the same time he did. Their rubber bands tangled together and fell to the floor between them. O'Neill ducked back into the car, and Sam dropped and rolled around the corner to safety. She pulled another orange rubber band from her wrist and looped it onto the gun. She was panting now, crouched, waiting for his return fire. He was playing it safe.

"Give it up, sir!"

"Over my dead body, Carter!"

"If that's what it takes," Sam said. She added a second rubber band to her gun; double impact. She wiped her arm across her forehead and she said, "You know, sir, this game has been getting out of hand for a while now."

"You ready to call it quits?"

"No, sir," Sam said. "I'm just saying that I'm not the only one who's gotten sick of it."

"Hands in the air, Colonel."

Sam grinned when she heard Janet's voice. She slipped out from hiding, leading with her weapon. O'Neill was on the ground, hands in the air, finger still curled around the trigger of his gun. Janet stood behind him holding her gun with both hands, the barrel pointed at the back of his head.

Sam said, "Drop the gun, sir. Nice and slow. No sudden movements."

"I've got an itchy trigger finger," Janet said, "and I've been so busy I wouldn't notice one more patient in my infirmary."

O'Neill lowered his gun to the ground and put his hands on the back of his head. Sam moved forward and picked the gun up.

"Can I get off my knees now? You know how my knees--"

Sam said, "No. Where's Daniel?"

"In the infirmary," Janet said. "He got hit from close range on exposed flesh. It's a pretty big welt. I've set him up with some ice packs."

Sam thumped O'Neill's forehead.

"Ow!" he said. "What was that for?"

"Not playing nice," Sam said. "Thanks for the help, Janet."

"No problem," Janet said. She finally moved her gun from O'Neill's head and blew across the barrel. "Anything I can do to keep the peace and save a few lives."

O'Neill said, "It truly was a good game, ladies. You gave me a run for my money. Teal'c, too. We should do this once a week. You know, just to keep things interesting. Tell you what, next week I'll rent paintball guns, and we'll head out onto the mountain..."

Sam and Janet looked at each other, lowered their guns, and emptied their clips into O'Neill's torso.

He rubbed the impact point on his chest and winced up at Sam.

"Ow!"


End file.
